Tag Archives: Africa

Just
15 months ago, President Cyril Ramaphosa became South Africa’s new head of
state following the long-awaited departure of President Jacob Zuma. Now on the
8th of May, South Africa will hold its 6th national and
provincial elections, marking 25 years since the fall of apartheid. How will
Ramaphosa fare, as the country battles a slow-burn economic
crisis, an electricity sector meltdown
and simmering discontent among all strata of society?

As
noted previously in these pages, Jacob Zuma
was removed in February 2018 to allow the ANC to revive their waning electoral
legitimacy and clean up the party’s image in the wake of damaging scandals.
After the party’s bruising loss of major municipalities in the 2016 local
government elections and the decline of the ANC’s national tally to just 54%,
most pundits predicted that the Zuma-effect would pull the ANC under the 50%
threshold in 2019.

Enter
Cyril Ramaphosa. Having served as Zuma’s deputy for the last four years of the
Zuma presidency, the sceptics noted that he had said and done little as the
scandals piled up and the evidence overwhelmingly showed that the Zuma
administration was intent on personalising
the proceeds of the state for himself and his friends. But
nonetheless, his ascendance as ANC and state president was greeted with hope
and optimism, a welcome break from the deepening gloom that marked the end of
the Zuma presidency.

This
positive sentiment – dubbed ‘Ramaphoria’ –
bolstered the currency, helped stave off a downgrade to ‘junk status’ by
Moody’s and left the middle class sleeping a little easier. But it wouldn’t
last long. Before long it became clear that there was a fight-back
from the Zuma camp, and that many of the worst
leaders from his cabal
had remained within the upper echelons of the party and state. Ramaphosa
inherited defunct institutions, a vastly increased state debt burden and an
electricity crisis prompted by corruption, mismanagement and rapid debt
accumulation.

The battle of the pollsters

Polling
has relatively consistently – and somewhat unsurprisingly – pointed to yet
another victory for the ANC at the national level. An Ipsos poll
conducted between March and April predicts a minor recovery for the ANC from
the 2016 polls – suggesting a final tally of 61% for the ANC, 19% for the Democratic
Alliance and 11% for the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF).

But
a new
poll released by the Institute for Race Relations (a Johannesburg-based
conservative think tank) has suggested that the ANC’s numbers will fall even
further this year than they did in the last local elections, and that the
ruling party is likely to lose again in major metros and is likely to lose
Gauteng – the country’s economic heartland – entirely to other parties. The IRR
poll suggests that the party will take 49.5% nationally (on a predicted turnout
of 100% of eligible voters) and 51% on a 71.9% turnout scenario. The same poll
places the DA at 21.3% (100% turnout) or 24% on a 71.9% turnout scenario while
the EFF takes between 14.9% and 14% across the two.

Of course, a 100% turnout scenario is unlikely – and levels of apathy across the country appear to be reaching alarming levels. Almost one in four eligible voters – nearly ten million people – declined to register, and another 5 million are expected not to turn out based upon previous turnout levels. The electoral commission’s data suggests that most of the disaffected are in urban areas – the most populous province, Gauteng, had the lowest registration rate at 67.1% of eligible voters. Young voters in particular seem to be staying away, with just 18% of the country’s 18-19 year olds registering, and a little over 50% of 20-29 year olds.

This
will likely hamper the EFF’s electoral fortunes and play to the ruling party’s
advantage. Older voters are more likely to vote on historical lines while
younger voters generally express far more dissatisfaction with the slow pace of
transformation over the last 25 years and have fewer deep historical ties to
the ANC. But between these two polls, it is probably reasonable to expect that
(barring a major crisis in the next 6 days) the ANC will likely win these
elections with between 50-60% of the vote, that the EFF will make the most
substantial gains amongst the opposition and the DA will maintain its place as
the country’s formal opposition but fail to capitalise sufficiently on the
discontent in the country.

What comes next?

In some ways the election represents a continuation of the status quo – that the ANC will continue a slow electoral slide, but that the two major opposition parties are unlikely to be sufficiently able to take advantage of growing public discontent to displace the ruling party. What will be more interesting to watch is what happens at provincial level.

Africa
Confidential reports that
at the provincial level, Zuma-supporters with a strong provincial base are
encouraging voters to undermine the ruling party at national level by voting
ANC provincially, but voting for other parties in the national polls. Several
weeks ago, Zuma himself endorsed the populist Black First Land First
movement-turned-party. It is alleged that some within this camp hope to use poor
national election result to try to remove Ramaphosa in a special elective
congress. For his part, Ramaphosa is believed to still be trying to clear some
of Zuma’s allies out of the ANC using a Special Investigation Unit tribunal which
will be established immediately following the polls.

This factionalism within the ANC is unlikely to be quickly resolved following the polls, and the country will still have to face the current dire economic circumstances. With persistently high unemployment figures (at 37%), unsustainable debt levels (50% of GDP) and low appetite for foreign investment, the country will remain in a sticky economic position. It remains to be seen which way Ramaphosa will take the ANC and whether he will pursue a more market-friendly growth path that potentially worsens the plight of some of South Africa’s poorest.

Ramaphosa has previously shown his proclivity for ‘order’ over fairness during the Marikana strikes, while his recent xenophobic statements on the campaign trail and support for entrenching traditional authorities’ control over rural communities appears to demonstrate a preference for expedience over principle. He will have to tread a fine path to walk South Africa back from the brink and help to build an inclusive and equitable economy. Cyril Ramaphosa needs to be up to the task – or he risks rushing the country down an ever more precarious path.

When he came to power in November 2017, Emmerson
Mnangagwa rode a wave of local and global goodwill. But by March 2019, the USA
had renewed sanctions against Zimbabwe that have been in place for nearly 20
years. In February, the UK held parliamentary discussions on Zimbabwe and the
Africa Minister, Harriet Baldwin, made it clear that a full normalisation of relations with Zimbabwe was no
longer on the table.

So how exactly did we get here?

Mnangagwa the ‘Reformer’

“I’m as soft as wool,” President
Emmerson Mnangagwa stated in an interview with Sky News in August 2018, in
response to a question from a journalist regarding his fearsome nickname – the
‘crocodile.’ Mnangagwa had worked hard in the 18 months since the ‘coup’ that
had put him in state house, cleaning up his image and promising to be a president
for all Zimbabweans, vowing to set the country on a new path. President Mnangagwa came to power
promising extensive reforms, global re-engagement and repeating the mantra that
Zimbabwe was “open for business.”

Ahead of the elections on 30 July
2018, on the main thoroughfares
through the capital and scattered across the country, big billboards towered
over Zimbabwe’s citizens as they went about their business. These billboards
were filled with images of an engaging and smiling President Mnangagwa, making
sweeping promises about universal healthcare, decent jobs, power generation and
‘free, fair and credible elections.’ The administration invited credible
election observation missions from around the world – missions that had not
been allowed to monitor the country’s elections since the violent 2002 polls. Between
them, the observer groups spanned 46 countries and 15 regional blocks, making
the 2018 election the most observed election in the country since independence
in 1980.

Mnangagwa had traversed the globe promising change and a
“new dispensation” in Harare, and was well-received in global capitals, with
the UK’s Rory Stewart – at the time the Minister of State for Africa – the
first to arrive in Harare following Mnangagwa’s installation in 2017. Zimbabwe applied
to re-join the Commonwealth, with the UK supporting its
application. The administration sought to re-engage with international
financial institutions – the World Bank and IMF – from which it had been
alienated since the early 2000s. The EU and USA began to discuss the relaxation
of the remaining limited sanctions and it seemed that Zimbabwe under Mnangagwa
might finally be welcomed back in to the international community, shedding its
‘pariah state’ status.

The July 2018 election

Despite all of the positive changes ahead of the polls,
it was clear that there were rumblings of dissent from within the ruling party
– and there were early indications that despite initial assurances about free
and fair elections, some aspects of the playing field would remain skewed in
the ruling party’s favour. The state media refused to give equal coverage to
all 23 presidential candidates, particularly ignoring the ruling party’s key
opponent – Nelson Chamisa of the MDC-Alliance. Despite their initial openness,
the electoral commission soon began to stonewall
key discussions on
reforming the electoral process, making the electoral roll available for an
audit and allowing the opposition to oversee the printing of ballots. Instead,
an unconstitutional ballot was designed and printed, civic groups and
opposition parties were left with little time to review and validate the roll
and there were serious and widespread reports
of intimidation in
rural areas in the lead-up to the polls.

When 7 protestors were gunned down by soldiers in the
streets of Harare in front of the global media on 1
August, the
international community and political commentators were dumbfounded. The
administration was so close to legitimating the 2017 coup with a
flawed-but-meets-basic-standards election, that it seemed unthinkable that they
would have squandered local and global goodwill so easily. At his inauguration, Mnangagwa condemned the violence,
vowing that his new administration would usher in a “brighter tomorrow” – and
he announced the creation of a commission of enquiry into the deaths on 1
August. He described
himself as a “listening president”, and insisted that his
government was committed to ‘constitutionalism, the rule of law and judicial
independence.’ Again, the commentators were caught off-guard, and were inclined
to give him the benefit of the doubt, to believe that perhaps the military had
acted without sanction – or worse, that the Vice President, Constantino
Chiwenga, had an eye on his boss’ job and had loosed the military on civilians
to undermine Mnangagwa’s position.

To sanitise his image in the wake of the global outcry,
several opinion
articles appeared in
the global media, ostensibly penned by Mnangagwa. He spoke of reconciliation,
new beginnings and a better future for a long suffering populace. But when the
commission of enquiry – headed by former South African President Kgalema
Motlanthe – wrapped up its business, they had heard from soldiers that those
killed had not been shot by soldiers but instead had been stabbed by members of
the opposition; that the MDC-A was to blame for the violence and deaths; and
that Mnangagwa had given the orders to set up the rapid response unit that had
been mobilised to the streets in response to the protests. Despite all his
assurances of being accountable, Mnangagwa is yet to publicly release the full
report which was handed to him in December 2018.

A disastrous January

By January 2019, less than 6
months into the administration, a simmering economic crisis had prompted
disgruntled and increasingly desperate members of the civil service to make
more demands from the state. Inflation in the black market for the country’s
surrogate currency was at over 50% in January, and long lines at fuel stations
made basic tasks difficult.

Mnangagwa announced an enormous
fuel price hike on 12 January, before jetting off in a private aircraft to
Central Asia. The country’s labour unions called for a national stay away to
protest the declining economy and unaffordable fuel prices, which was then enforced
by unknown elements and angry youths. In the melee that ensued, shops were
looted, cars were burned and a policeman was stoned to death. In the wake of
this, the state launched a violent and angry three-week crackdown on the
country’s poor, beating those who lived in close
proximity to the worst of the looting and violence – and committing
systematic torture and collective punishment. Nearly a thousand people were
rounded up, beaten and put in prison. Fourteen women are reported to have been
raped by soldiers, and at least 17 people were reported to have been killed.

In person, Mnangagwa seemed to
condone the violence, though his Twitter feed condemned it and called for
accountability for the state-sponsored violence. In a strange twist, his
spokesman went so far as to tell
the public not to believe everything said on the president’s Twitter
feed. This fresh crackdown prompted yet another round of global concern, and it
appears that all prospects for international re-engagement have stalled. ZIDERA
has been renewed, and the UK has disowned any plans to support Zimbabwe’s bid
to re-enter the Commonwealth. US sanctions will make the bailout that Zimbabwe
so badly needs from international financial institutions even more unlikely.

Mnangagwa’s consistent inconsistency

While early in his presidency,
many were willing to give the new president the benefit of the doubt, it is
increasingly clear that the new administration in Zimbabwe is both more
authoritarian than its predecessor, and
less strategic. Having denounced the January 2019 protests as a Western-backed
attempt at regime change, the ruling party has dusted off its old anti-imperial
mantra as a cloak for their repressive actions. They have charged key
opposition and civic leaders with treason. In 25-year old Joanah
Mamombe’s case, she is alleged to be the first woman charged with
treason in the country in over 150 years. According to veteran journalist, Peta
Thornycroft, “about 10 MPs from the opposition MDC Alliance are
variously charged with incitement, subversion and treason.”

In light of all this, in early
March, the United Nations Human Rights Council announced
that it would send special rapporteurs to Harare to investigate the claims of
human rights abuses. In another spectacular about-face, this has apparently
been welcomed by President Mnangagwa. The Foreign Ministry’s official who was
sent to brief the press appeared to be living in a parallel
universe, and reported substantial gains at international
re-engagement. In a similar vein, it was reported on 6 March that the
government – who are currently unable to stabilise the economy, pay civil
servant salaries or settle vast debts to neighbouring South Africa – have
decided to engage the services of a Trump-affiliated lobbyist
to have the US sanctions dropped. This comes at an annual
cost of $500 000 dollars. The likely success of this initiative is
low, and Zimbabweans will probably see little gain from their misspent taxes.

Unfortunately, this young administration has proven to be both erratic and tone deaf. Having had several chances at reform, they have consistently undermined their own case but still hoped to find themselves in a strong negotiating position. For now, the reform ship appears to have sailed, and the long-suffering citizens of Zimbabwe are likely to continue to suffer under a regime that seems to care little for their welfare, and less for their protest. As Panashe Chigumadzi stated in August 2018, “the old Zimbabwe is the new Zimbabwe.”

The Central Africa region remains a haven for autocratic and semi-autocratic regimes, in sharp contrast to West Africa, and the situation did not improve in 2018. The sub-region is home to the world’s three longest serving presidents: Teodoro Obiang Nguema of Equatorial Guinea (39 years in power), Cameroon’s Paul Biya (36 years), and Congo’s Denis Sassou Nguesso (34 years). Moreover, Idriss Déby (27 years) of Chad is not far behind, and the Bongo family has ruled Gabon for over 50 years. Faustin-Archange Touadéra of the Central African Republic (CAR) is the only president elected in legitimately competitive polls, in 2016, although his government now has limited control over national territory beyond the capital Bangui.

All six countries, member states of the Central African Economic and Monetary Community (CEMAC by its French acronym), are ranked “not free” by Freedom House, and score below continental averages on the Mo Ibrahim governance index. The six countries share a common currency – the Central African CFA franc – which was first introduced during colonial times in the five francophone territories making up the Federation of Equatorial French Africa (AEF). Equatorial Guinea, the only former Spanish colony member of CEMAC, adopted the CFA in 1984. Only Congo and CAR have experienced brief periods of electoral democracy in the 1990s, before autocrats returned to power in 1997 and 2003, respectively.

The sub-region experienced further autocratic entrenchment and growing instability in 2018. Biya of Cameroon won a seventh term in elections that lacked credibility. Cameroon also continues its descent towards civil war, as the crisis in the Anglophone regions of the country deepens. Anglophone separatists recently created their own crypto-currency, known as AmbaCoin. In Equatorial Guinea, Vice-president Teodorín Obiang who is the son of the current president was promoted major-general as the family closed ranks after an alleged coup attempt in 2017. Teodorín recently presided over a cabinet meeting, confirming fears he is positioned to replace his father soon. In Congo, Sassou Nguesso’s son Denis Christel, one of 10 family members elected to the National Assembly in 2017, was rumored to be preparing to run against his father in 2021. In Gabon, Ali Bongo has been ill for months and the constitutional court took it upon itself to amend the constitution to delineate responsibilities between the prime minister and the vice-president in the event of a “temporary” absence of the president. Déby pushed through a new constitution for Chad that enhanced presidential powers and eliminated the post of prime minister (see previous blog post here). The CAR is increasingly ungovernable, and various armed groups have spread violence to new regions of the country.

Prospects for replacing one-man or dynastic rule in the sub-region through democratic elections are bleak and stand in sharp contrast to democratic progress in neighboring West Africa, where only Togo is left with a president serving more than two terms. Unlike the successful alternation of power that has taken place in 14 of 15 West African countries member states of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), in the last decade, the Central Africa sub-region is a sobering example of strong-man rule in fragile states that could implode into violence.

The situation is not much better when expanding the analysis to the larger Economic Community of Central African States (ECCAS), which in addition to the CEMAC countries includes Angola, Burundi, the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Rwanda, and São Tomé and Príncipe. São Tomé and Príncipe is the only country in the larger Central Africa region that regularly holds credible elections and is rated as “free” by Freedom House. The region overall has had limited democratic experiences and ECCAS lacks the equivalent of the 2001 ECOWAS Protocol on Democracy and Good Governance. In contrast to the evolving democratic norms and regional institutions with increasing clout seen in West Africa, Central Africa remains at the mercy of personal networks among autocratic heads of state focused on mutual elite support.

The road to inclusive and credible elections in Central Africa remains long and tortuous, and 2018 has thus far not been a good year for the region. It remains to be seen whether the presidential elections in the DRC on December 23 will break the pattern and result in a peaceful transfer of executive power and more accountable governance [see previous blog post on the DRC here]. The outlook is far from promising, with a worsening political situation and increasing violence as election day approaches.

Political leaders – the way they rule and how they come to power – can tell a lot about a country’s present and future. This is especially true for Africa, a continent in which personalistic rule, authoritarianism, and underdevelopment have historically gone hand in hand. Not surprisingly, leadership handovers in Africa often catalyse extraordinary attention. Just consider the past twelve months or so, during which the region witnessed some dramatic leadership transfers. In Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe, one of the continent’s most despised power-holders, was replaced by his former vice president after years of increasingly authoritarian rule and disappointing development performances. South Africa’s Jacob Zuma, who had been accused of 783 counts of corruption, was forced to step down by his own party, the ruling African National Congress, handing power to Cyril Ramaphosa. In Ethiopia, Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn voluntarily resigned to smooth the path for a new political opening, leading to the surprise rise of the first ethnic Oromo leader in the country’s modern history. José Eduardo Dos Santos left office in Angola after almost four decades in power, having become one of the continent’s longest-serving presidents. Are these heralds of democratic progress? Will they trigger more meaningful political, social and economic developments?

The Africa Leadership Change (ALC) Project is a truly unique interactive data visualization tool offering answers to these questions and insights on many of Africa’s past and present political dynamics, with a particular focus on national leaders. Hosted on the website of the Italian Institute for International Political Studies (ISPI), and conceived by Giovanni Carbone (ISPI and Università degli Studi di Milano) and Alessandro Pellegata (Università degli Studi di Milano), the ALC Project is based on an original collection of data covering all leadership changes that have taken place on the continent from 1960 to the present day. The ALC dataset tracks the political history of each individual African country through the lenses of leadership transfers, with complete information on their timing, frequencies and types. It records whether such handovers occurred through violent transitions, coups d’état or armed insurgencies, or rather through elections, and whether electoral changeovers took place in a framework of party continuity or else they marked the advent to power of opposition forces.

One added value of the ALC Project rests in its interactive design, which makes it easily accessible to both scholars and a wider audience of journalists, policy-makers and stakeholders with an interest in African affairs. The different types of information featured by ALC can be visually represented through four main interactive tabs. Interacting with the map of the African continent located in the first tab (“Current African Leaders”), the user can look up which leader is currently in office and the level of democracy for each of Africa’s 54 sovereign states. A chart on African leaders’ duration in office also reveals who are today’s longest-serving leaders and who are the newcomers. The evolution of these and other political dynamics, for all the countries of the region, can be visualized in a second screen, called “Dynamic Map”.

Besides data on leadership changes, the ALC project provides time-series recording a country’s progress in a wider range of political and socioeconomic indicators, from economic growth to human development, from demographic expansion to average life expectancy. These can be visualized in the “Dynamic Map” tab. Most importantly, through the “Charts” tools, the user can create personalized line graphs which complement information on leadership changes with information on a country’s economic and social trends over time. Countries can be compared with each other, or contrasted with regional average values. Finally, using the “How Leaders Change” tab, those interested in how leadership transitions have taken place in African countries and in how modes of leadership change have evolved through history can easily track the relative or absolute numbers of violent, peaceful but non-electoral, or electoral changes, and the different forms each of these can take.

Leaders and leadership transfers shaped Africa’s modern political history and will contribute to shaping the continent’s future. We shall follow these and related developments with regular updates of the ALC dataset.

In new research, now published online by the journal Democratization, I engage with the democratization by elections thesis in Africa, and argue that repeated elections can induce some forms of democratic behavior but face real limitations when formal presidential powers are strong. This is because under certain conditions strong presidentialism reinforces incentives for elections to become opportunities for clientelistic exchange, rather than moments of self-expression. Powerful presidents that control legislative agendas, access to political appointments, and the purse strings, might lead certain actors to behave more democratically during elections, but not necessarily to develop more robust notions of citizenship. This holds true in Africa because levels of economic development and inequality reinforce the role of clientelism as a central way elites and citizens access their government.

A caveat is in order here first. If the democratization by elections thesis has been so heavily scrutinized (in Africa and elsewhere), what is there to add to the debate? Other studies have generated, at best, mixed results. For instance, in Latin America democracy was restored in the 1980s after periodic interludes of authoritarianism. Therefore, many of the indicators of democracy simply jumped back to their prior levels, and have in fact declined since in many countries. Most importantly, in many countries repeated elections seemed to reinforce rather than undermine authoritarianism. Referred to as electoral or competitive authoritarian regimes, in these cases repeated elections appear to offer incumbents the ability to reshuffle their coalitions, gather information about their levels of support, and generate international legitimacy. In one study of Africa, the authors found that democratization by elections could only truly be found in a handful of cases.

The problem with previous studies is that they often mischaracterize what the democratization by elections thesis is actually about. Lindberg makes a crucial distinction between the “process of democratization” and a “transition to democracy.” Regimes can show improvements in specific indicators of democracy, while not necessarily transitioning to a new regime. Indeed, autocratic regimes can exhibit more or less democratic behavior. For instance, when actors participate more, compete more effectively, or appear to accept the legitimacy of the election process, this is a sign of democratic progress. Specifically, for Lindberg this is evidence of how elections create self-fulfilling expectations. Elections might also lead to improvements in other realms of democratic life like the protection of civil liberties. This indicates some form of socialization by elections, whereby citizens learn from election experience to demand voice in other realms of life. Using this more limited definition of democratization yields quite different results from previous studies.

My contribution is therefore to stress which factors condition the impact of repeated elections on much more specific democratic outcomes. I gathered information on 679 African elections since 1990, and combined this information with data from the Varieties of Democracy (V-DEM) and Presidential Power (PRESPOW) datasets. These data offer new ways to explore both numerous democratic outcomes, and to compare and contrast the extent of formal presidential power across Africa. The V-DEM data includes measures of electoral participation, competition, and legitimacy. But, it also includes indexes of many non-electoral elements of democracy like the protection of civil and private liberties, civil society participation, and equal protection under the law. I controlled for numerous other factors like executive years in office, levels of economic growth and development, foreign aid, ethnic heterogeneity, religion, and historic experiences with democracy.

A key utility of this study is its use of formal measures of presidential power in Africa. In many studies of African politics the focus has often been on the various ways in which presidents violate constitutions and operate through parallel informal institutions. This approach is mistaken for a number of reasons. First, it is equally clear that African presidents routinely amend constitutions, which means that the formal powers of presidents are not trivial. Second, using formal measures of presidential powers limits the risk of endogeneity in a study. For example, if a president unconstitutionally repeals legislation, this is often coded as both a violation of the democratic process and stronger informal presidential power. It is difficult to know what factor is influencing what factor. By focusing on the formal attributes of presidents, this risk of conflation is mitigated.

The analysis shows that improvements in the election process do not depend on levels of presidential power. Using Lindberg’s criteria, with more experience African elections become more participatory, competitive, and legitimate. This validates the notion that elections reinforce actors’ expectations and conditions them to accede by the rules of the game if they want to get ahead. On the other hand, presidential power significantly conditions the impact of repeated election on civil and private liberties, civil society participation, and equal protection under the law. When presidents are formally strong, repeated and consecutive elections limit the ability of elections to socialize more participatory and democratic behavior. These results hold up to various statistical models, and even the inclusion of a measure of the unfairness of the election.

This corresponds with expectations regarding the intersection of presidential power and clientelism in Africa. When levels of access to a system of spoils define the political game, and when presidents control that access, elections become devoid of deeper civic meaning. Rather, actors decide to accept electoral processes because fighting the system keeps them excluded. These results do not reject the democratization by elections thesis, but rather shed light on its limitations. Moreover, it also corroborates that the problem of democratic progress is not only due to the fact that elections themselves are unfair. In many cases the playing field remains heavily tilted toward incumbents, but clientelism and powerful presidents exist in diverse settings and exert an independent impact on democratic outcomes. It is not enough to just get the elections right, the disproportionate formal powers of presidents need to be tempered too.

President Muhammadu Buhari will, in all likelihood, seek a second term in office. For starters, this is a prospect that is buttressed by much political tradition and precedent; no Nigerian president who lived through a first term has ever walked away from the possibility of a second (at least not willingly).[i] But the president’s desire to retain his office has also been implied by more recent events. Among these are the fact that next year’s budget, which Buhari proposed in November, promises to be Nigeria’s biggest ever, an expansion in spending which analysts have interpreted as designed to shore up his government’s reputation in advance of the 2019 polls.[ii] Along with this has come his de facto endorsement by the state governor’s forum, easily the most influential elite caucused within Buhari’s All Progressive’s Congress (APC) party. With this decisive announcement already secured, an official declaration of Buhari’s intention to contest is almost a formality.

However, taking all of this to mean that Buhari’s second term bid will be a cakewalk would be imprudent. Least of all because a general election is likely to pit him against easily his toughest opponent on Nigeria’s current political stage; namely Alhaji Atiku Abubaker.

There are a number of important details to bear in mind which hint at why Alhaji Atiku might represent a most formidable challenger. Foremost is the fact that he is (in)famously wealthy. This is an especially meaningful quality in a context wherein electoral races are increasingly becoming prohibitively expensive. But aside from (though not unrelated to) his wealth, he has also been a regular fixture on Nigeria’s political stage having both served as Nigeria’s second elected vice-president from 1999 – 2007 and unsuccessfully run for president on three separate occasions (1992, 2007, and 2011).

Atiku’s ubiquity in Nigerian politics has certainly come with its costs. His proximity to an unpopular Nigerian state over such an extended period of time has tainted his reputation and raised numerous question marks about the propriety of his wealth. Critics also point to his having frequently switched party allegiances or, in Nigerian parlance, ‘decamped’ (most recently last month) as evidence of his being conniving or dishonest.

However, his supporters parry accusations of his dishonesty by pointing out that most Nigerian politicians have, at one point or another, decamped and that party switching has effectively become a norm of political behavior in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic, as Nigerian academics have also argued.[ii] Moreover, Atiku’s continuity in Nigerian politics –even if in the form of unsuccessful presidential bids– has allowed him to reinforce a strong base of supporters over time. This formula was put to fruitful use by none other than Buhari himself who, identically, also lost three presidential elections before his victory in 2015 suggesting, perhaps, that in Nigeria’s presidential politics, the fourth time might be the charm.

Atiku has also recently thrown his support behind a number of issues, which are backed by growing constituencies. Of note among these is his fervent support for constitutional reforms to restructure Nigeria’s federal system and allow for a more widely accepted balance between central and local governments. Proponents of these reforms include both national civil society and communities in the oil producing regions of Nigeria, both of which could be important electoral constituencies. Atiku has also recently come out in favor of #EndSARS, a protest movement which has been aimed at disbanding an unpopular police unit known as the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS), and which has largely taken place on Twitter. Weighing-in in favor of proponents of #EndSARS, has shown Atiku to be responsive to the public outcry of a young urban constituency which is increasingly recognized to be an influential ally of opposition candidates in African elections [iii].

But beyond (and perhaps more important than) these personal traits however, there are also important structural factors that make Atiku’s possible bid against Buhari a distinctly viable one. Chief among these factors is the peculiar matter of zoning. Zoning refers to an informal arrangement amongst Nigeria’s political parties which requires that after a president from either the northern or southern half (or ‘zone’) of the country has served two consecutive terms in office, his successor must come from the opposite ‘zone’. This issue partially accounted for northern support in 2015 for Buhari against the re-election bid of former president Goodluck Jonathan, a southerner who, having completed the term of his successor who died in office, was widely castigated by northern politicians for seeking to stay in office beyond the ‘turn’ of his zone. [iv]

The fact that the presidency will remain zoned to the north in the upcoming election means that Atiku will face much less of a challenge from other presidential hopefuls from the south who might otherwise have made threatening incursions into the race. Additionally, Buhari’s heavy handed response to militancy in Nigeria’s oil delta and to the pro-Biafran successions movement in the past two years have not won him very many new supporters in the south, a region which already voted heavily against him in 2015. Taken together, these factors will mean that, in a race against Atiku, Buhari will face a viable challenger in his core base in the north while fighting an uphill battle in much of the south (particularly the south east) where, given Buhari’s unpopularity, Atiku might be deemed a much more palatable choice. An assessment of the above factors, as well as the fact that no similarly viable northern challenger has emerged in the opposition People’s Democratic Party, probably account for Atiku’s decision to jump ship from the APC to the PDP late last month.

In Nigeria’s immediate context, these factors raise the possibility that the 2019 general election could be a hotly contested race that pits two former allies against each other. Politics, of course, makes strange bedfellows but there is no reason to expect that such cohabitation will endure through thick and thin. In more general terms however, the forgoing analyses has also brought to the fore some of the challenges which sometimes make the fact of being an incumbent a double edged sword in increasingly competitive electoral contexts.

With these tensions in mind I spoke with Nkongho Felix Agbor-Balla. Agbor-Balla is a human rights lawyer and the president of the CACSC and the Fako Lawyers Association (FAKLA). On January 18, 2017 he was arrested and airlifted to Yaoundé. A 2014 anti-terror law allowed the government to try him in a military tribunal, and he remained in military detention without bail until he was released by presidential decree on August 31st. I spoke to him from London over Skype on October 23. Our conversation, which I excerpt below, revolved primarily around the roots of the Anglophone crisis and the difficulty of resolving it within the context of the Cameroonian political system.

The Roots of the Current Anglophone Crisis

The “Anglophone Problem” has historical roots in the country’s brief experiment with federalism that united former British and French territories. The specifics of unification have been covered extensively, but the federal arrangement left significant authority in the hands of the presidency. The president could appoint critical administrative figures, direct the flow of resources, and use emergency powers to curtail political expression. By 1972, both multipartyism and federalism were abolished. Since Anglophones have seen themselves as the main losers of this arrangement. This was true under first president Ahamadou Ahidjo and his successor Paul Biya.

At one level Anglophones are responding to a specific set of discriminatory government policies. For instance, Anglophone lawyers oppose the imposition of French magistrates in English-speaking areas and the absence of sufficient recognition of Common Law. Similarly, teachers and students have protested the lack of English-speaking educational and career opportunities. The issue of language and belonging looms large for Anglophones. As Agbor-Balla noted, “French is the language of oppression for many. And they [the Francophone] do not care about the Anglophone problem because they think that French is the only language you need to speak if you want to have your way.”

At another level the crisis is over the perception that Anglophones have not had an adequate seat at the political table. This is reflected in the distribution of senior appointments and economic resources. For instance, after 1972 many local economic functions were transplanted to Yaoundé, and the government invested in the Douala port rather than Limbe. Most importantly, political exclusion has instilled fear of permanent political alienation from the highest offices of power, namely the presidency. Under Ahidjo the sense was the politics tilted toward the north, while under Biya it is to the south.

The hierarchy of state positions was evident from my conversation. Most clearly, I pushed Agbor-Balla to consider whether a more empowered Prime Minister would be satisfactory. The position was reinstated in 1992 and has informally always gone to an Anglophone. Agbor-Balla claims this concession is meaningless: “Having a Prime Minister without any power! The power resides in the Presidency. What powers does the Prime Minister actually hold? We used to have a Vice President and Speaker who were second in command, but now we have a Prime Minister that does not really matter. Why can’t we have a President? Why not a Vice President?”

Resolving the Anglophone Crisis

The government has not conceded much ground. An ad hoc committee led by the Prime Minister was largely maligned by Anglophones, including Agbor-Balla: “These are the same people who are ministers, the prime minster, members of government, parliamentarians. These are people who do not recognize a problem, who have not accounted for previous government atrocities.” Similarly, a National Commission for Bilingualism and Multiculturalism was seen as cosmetic and a way to demonstrate progress to the international community.

The most significant government concessions emerged out of the March legislative session. While nothing has been implemented, there are new laws that call for the creation of a Common Law bench on the Supreme Court, reforms to the National School of Administration and Magistracy, and the recruitment of additional Anglophone magistrates. For Agbor-Balla “the Common Law bench is a step in the right direction,” but he also claims that “we have passed the stage where we say it is just the legal and education based issues to a stage where we tackle fundamental problems with the form of the state.”

And it is here that significant tensions emerge. Simply addressing questions of discrimination might not be agreeable to the movement. Agbor-Balla advocates for an inclusive constitutional conference, but his position on the outcome shifts. He maintains that decentralization and some form of truth and reconciliation can work. But, he also noted that anything short of a return to federalism would likely not satisfy Anglophones: “The CACSC believes that thatfederalism is a midpoint between the unionists and the independence movement. It is a win-win situation.” This involves rotating the presidency between an Anglophone and Francophone, restoring the office of the Vice Presidency, and explicit protections for minority rights.

But, this type of change is improbable given the incentives that underlie the Cameroonian political system. The presidency holds together a tenuous multiethnic coalition of entrenched elites who view the question of distribution and political control quite starkly. As Agbor-Balla notes, “They do not have the political will and do not want to lose their control over power. It is a patronage system where you have to have allegiance to them so they can manipulate you.” Indeed, Biya amended the constitution in 2008 to extend his term limits, and is likely to run again in 2018 to prevent a divisive succession crisis.

This implies that many of the underlying issues that propel the Anglophone crisis will persist. Absent a clear political strategy that changes the calculus in the presidency, it is difficult to imagine the government embarking on true reform. Biya has demonstrated a willingness to use violence and curtail discussion of federalism and even decentralization. This leaves Anglophones in a precarious situation as different voices pull the movement in various directions, some potentially violent.

This is a guest post by Jo-Ansie van Wyk, Department of Political Sciences, University of South Africa (Unisa), Pretoria, South Africa. It is based on her forthcoming article in Politikon.

No longer simply trophy wives, First Ladies (i.e. the spouse of the President or Prime Minister, excluding monarchs) in Southern Africa are an increasingly influential political force in the inner circle of presidents and politics. From peace missions to summits, First Ladies play a leadership role in the sustainable development and politics of the sub-region. In Africa, studies on political leadership and presidential studies predominantly focus on, amongst others, the role of so-called Big Men, Presidents, electoral authoritarianism, and coup d’états. The region’s First Ladies have always wielded political power due to their proximity to, and membership of the inner circle of the Executive in their country. Therefore, the study of First Ladies offers valuable insights into presidential leadership, democratic accountability, and the role and status of women in Southern Africa.

The First Lady is more than often the symbolic representation of women’s role in a particular society. Closely related to this is her relation with the media, and vice versa. The representation of the First Lady in the media (often reinforcing certain gender stereotypes), and her involvement in her spouse’s political agenda contributes to her role as a political symbol. Therefore, her task, like that of her counterparts elsewhere, has developed from mere a State House hostess or beauty queen to a spokesperson of her husband’s political agenda. Despite this, the media often, perhaps due to gender stereotyping in a society, downplays the First Lady’s importance.

Several First Ladies are or have been married to liberation leaders-turned-Presidents; often bestowing on these women the title, Mother of the Nation, Mama or Founding First Lady. In several cases, the first post-independence First Lady was also referred to as the Mother of the Nation; thus acting as the symbol of the nation. This title was bestowed on, for example, Winnie Mandela (South Africa), Kovambo Theopoldine Katjimune, wife of Sam Nujoma (Namibia), Janet Museveni (Uganda), and Sally Mugabe of Zimbabwe whose political activism prior to entering State House and subsequent to it was indicative of the influence of her person. Some former First Ladies made a political comeback as either elected Members of Parliament (MPs) or presidential candidates. Miria Obote, widow of the late President Milton Obote of Uganda was a candidate for her husband’s political party, the Uganda People’s Congress, which ran the country from 1962 to 1971, and again from 1980 to 1985. President Obote was ousted in a coup by Yoweri Museveni. In 2014, after the death of her husband, Michael Sata (Zambia), while still in office, Christine Kaseba, Sata’s wife, joined the elections as a presidential candidate.

Apart from her influence derived from her close intimate relations with the President, two other factors determine the political and policy potency of a First Lady in a particular state, namely political institutions (the constitution and constitutional powers of the President; presidential campaigns and practices related to political parties and the media; legal and constitutional provisions related to the First Lady and her Office; the physical location of the Office of the First Lady) and socio-cultural factors (the role of women, gender and family in a society history; and culture).

A further illustration of the political influence of a First Lady is Agathe Habyarimana, wife of the late Rwandan President Juvenal Habyarimana. A Hutu by birth, Agathe Habyarimana has been described as the power behind her husband’s tenure and one of the masterminds behind the Rwanda Genocide of 1994. Juvenal Habyarimana’s inner circle – akazu (Kinyarwanda for ‘small house’), sometimes referred to as Le Réseau Zéro (Network Zero) – was also referred to a le clan de Madame (the First Lady’s clique). The akazu consisted of Agathe Habyarimana, her three brothers and husband (the President) and established their own death squad to eliminate political opponents; and had representatives in embassies and local governments; basically an oligarchy that infiltrated all layers of Rwandan society. More recently, reports of G40’s (Generation 40), a ruling party faction led by Grace Mugabe (Zimbabwe), involvement in succession matters in Zimbabwe emerged.

The First Lady is typically not a democratically elected, and thus not a publically accountable public official. However, Winnie Madikazela-Mandela (South Africa), for example, was both a publicly-elected official (an MP) and a First Lady as the wife of Nelson Mandela. Another example is Janet Museveni (Uganda) who is also a member of her husband’s Cabinet. The First Lady is also important to her husband in other respects. Yoweri Museveni (Uganda), for example, appointed his wife, Janet, in 2009 as Minister of State for Karamoja in an effort to achieve national unity. The Karamojong saw this as a positive development as Museveni has shown affection by sending his own wife to live and work among them.

For Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe, his wife, Grace’s entry into politics has been meteoric but also acting as his surrogate. Since her appointment as Secretary for Women Affairs of the ruling party, ZANU-PF, in December 2014, she is a member of ZANU’s Politburo, the party’s highest decision-making body.

First Ladies have developed a public policy agenda independent of and/or parallel to of that of her husband’s government, giving rise to the notion of the First Lady as the ‘Social worker-in-Chief’. Africa is by far one of the most under-developed continents. Evidence of First Ladies’ response to this is the number of social foundations (aiming to achieve the Millennium Development Goals established by several African First Ladies. Amongst others are Ether Lungu’s (wife of Zambian President) Esther Lungu Trust Foundation; Burundian First Lady Denise Nkurunziza’sBuntu Foundation, with established partnerships with the United Nations Population Fund, aims to ‘create and build various ways of helping, supporting, teaching and coaching vulnerable and helpless people in the Burundian society like widows, elderly people, the orphans of HIV/AIDS and war, the disabled and the poor’. HIV/AIDS seems to be a major social concern for some Southern African First Ladies, including Marie Olive Lembé Kabila (DRC), and Janet Museveni (Uganda) who founded the organization, Uganda Women’s Effort to Save Orphans (UWESO) that, amongst others, tend to HIV/AIDS affected orphans. Salma Kikwete (Tanzania) is another First Lady that has established a social foundation, the Wanawake Na Maendeleo (WAMA) Foundation that aims to improve the life standards of women, girls and children. Despite their low public profile, Mmes Zuma have also established various Foundations: Nompumelelo MaNtuli-Zuma Foundation and the Tobeka Madiba-Zuma Foundation. The former has, for example, provided assistance to women in the Eastern Cape, whereas the Madiba-Zuma Foundation focuses on health with First Lady Madiba-Zuma currently serving as the chairperson of the Forum of African First Ladies against Breast and Cervical Cancer.

Margaret Kenyatta (Kenya) is also leading several social campaigns in her country. The Kenyan Ministry of Health has published a Strategic Framework for the engagement of the First Lady in HIV Control and Promotion of Maternal, Newborn and Child Health in Kenya. Her Beyond Zero Campaign focuses on maternal and child health for which she was recognised by the United Nations. Breaking ranks with her counterparts, Margaret Kenyatta (Kenya) is the first African First Lady to focus on animal rights. She is the patron of Hands off our Elephants Campaign and is cooperating with the United Nations Development Programme to combat poaching in Kenya and promote the welfare of wildlife.

Mozambique, Namibia, and South Africa define the role and purpose of the First Lady. Mozambique, for example, refers to ‘Primera Dama’ supported by the ‘Gabinete da Esposa do Presidente’ who has ‘official duties’ and a role in ‘achieving social and cultural initiatives she decides to develop’ Namibia defines the purpose of the Office of the First Lady as too effectively use the First Lady’s unique role to contribute to and compliment the efforts of the Government of Namibia. The Namibian government goes further and also identifies the relevant stakeholders engaging with the Office of the First Lady and includes, inter alia, the Office of the President; Government Ministries; the Namibian National Planning Commission; UN agencies and the World Bank; international organizations such as RAND Corporation and the African First Ladies’ Fellowship Programme; local NGOs and business communities; and the diplomatic community.

The Offices of First Ladies in Southern Africa are typically located in the Office of the President; thus centralizing the political affairs of the First Couple and allowing for the careful orchestration of the First Lady’s programme and image. A subservient First Lady implies a more traditional society in respect of the rights and status of women; implying Presidential preference in this regard. In contrast, a politically-ambitious First Lady such as Grace Mugabe and Janet Museveni has strengthened their husband’s position and power base. It should be noted, however, that First Ladies are more likely to play a number of these roles than to play one in particular.

So far, the emphasis here has been predominantly on the domestic role of the First Lady. For completeness’ sake and in the absence of scholarly work on the topic, the next section turn to one particularly externally-related function and role of the First Lady, namely diplomacy. The diplomatic role of First Ladies in Southern Africa is not limited to photo opportunities with foreign Heads of State and Government or state banquets contributing to a state’s foreign policy architecture; promoting the President’s image, agenda; and a state’s bi- and multilateral relations. Therefore, the First Lady intends not to embarrass her husband and his government; contravene diplomatic protocol; and contradict her country’s position on a particular issue. However, this diminishes, the agentic’ role of the First Lady, and entrenches male dominance in a state’s diplomatic relations and foreign policy-making.

Despite these diplomatic activities, the diplomatic role of First Ladies is constrained by several factors. She is, for example, not a publically elected or appointed foreign policy decision maker. A First Lady may also be constrained by cultural factors restricting the independence of women. A third factor is her husband’s political agenda and audience, and his intention to remain the single most important player in this arena.

The First Lady in a diplomatic context is typically her husband’s escort, fulfill an aesthetic role and act as a surrogate for her husband. Southern African First Ladies manage their husband’s credibility by ‘seducing’ foreign audiences and promoting their husbands’ political agenda. As an example of managing or contributing to her husband’s international credibility is the State House of Uganda’s report on the Global Decency Index that found Janet Museveni in 2014 as ‘the most decent African First Lady’.

The surrogate role of the Southern African First Lady is evident in Maria Guebuza’s (Mozambique) six day visit to India in 2011 on behalf of her husband and the Final Communique of the Seventh Roundtable of the Spouses of the COMESA Heads of State and Government. Herein, COMESA First Ladies referred to some of their husbands’ achievements and roles in the region.

Managing social issues and social advocacy are other rhetorical functions of First Lady Diplomacy. In May 2001, Jeanette Kagame (Rwanda), for example, hosted the first African First Ladies’ Summit on Children and HIV/AIDS Prevention in Kigali, Rwanda. Another example is the establishment of the Organisation of African First Ladies against HIV/AIDS (OFLA) in 2002 by 24 African First Ladies. With currently more than 40 members with each First Lady leading the national chapter of OFLA, the Organisation has established a Permanent Secretariat in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, in 2012 to coordinate their activities. By 2015, OFLA has not only made a commitment to eradicate polio on the continent, but is also in the process of signing a Memorandum of Understanding with the World Health Organisation (WHO) to cooperate on eradicating polio.

The First Ladies of regional economic communities (RECs) often meet parallel to the Heads of State and Government of these RECs such as the Summit of Heads of State and Government of the Francophonie to discuss matters of mutual social concern. Another example of African First Ladies’ social advocacy is their establishment of the African Network of Women Peace Negotiators, at the sixth conference of the African First Ladies Peace Mission in 1997 in Nigeria. First Ladies play a particular international role during their husbands’ tenure and are thus a considerable diplomatic asset to their husbands. Their involvement in bi- and multilateral diplomacy fulfil certain rhetoric functions advancing the national interests of their respective countries.

Generally, the accountability of a First Lady remains ambiguous as she is not a publicly-elected official and has no constitutionally-prescribed role. Yet, some First Ladies in the sub-region are perceived to be entrenching a culture of no accountability which undermines the socio-economic development of the countries. Serving as a formal or informal advisor to her husband has raised concerns about the accountability of First Ladies in respect of their husbands’ policy and political decisions. This is a particular concern in, for example, brutal regimes. Some First Ladies in Southern Africa such as Denise Nkurunziza (Burundi) and Grace Mugabe (Zimbabwe) have been accused of supporting their husbands’ uninterrupted and undemocratic regimes. Southern African Presidents Sassou Nguesso (1979-1992, and since 1997), Robert Mugabe (since 1980), José dos Santos (since 1979), and Yoweri Museveni (since 1986) are among African longest serving presidents; a position the First Ladies have undoubtedly supported. Some African constitutions grant Executive immunity. Whether this is extended to the First Lady remains uncertain. The recent International Criminal Court’s (ICC) sentencing of Simone Ggagbo, former Ivorian First Lady, to a 20-year jail term for her role in the 2011 post-election crisis in Côte d’Ivoire – after her husband Laurent’s refusal to accept election defeat to the incumbent Alassane Ouattara in the 2010 elections triggered a transitory civil war that led to the death of 3 000 people – has renewed questions about the political ambitions and neutrality of First Ladies.

First Ladies in Southern Africa are influential political actors. Despite this, the region’s First Ladies are under-researched political actors; hence this exploratory study. I have shown that the Office of the First Lady is formally and informally institutionalized in the region by providing a new typology of the functions and role of Southern Africa’s First Ladies, as well as the implications thereof.

Besides focusing on the domestic arena, I have also focused on First Lady Diplomacy; another neglected academic area. Based on these, it is possible to deduce that First Ladies have personal, political and structural abilities to penetrate domestic, regional and international politics. These abilities empower her to regulate societal relations; extract resources such as political support, tenders and government funding; and to appropriate and use material (funds, tenders) and immaterial (influence, status, prestige) public and private resources; abilities that, amongst others, raise questions about First Ladies’ accountability in respect to several identified matters, and the transparency of her public duties and private interests.

Besides these empirical findings, I also contend that, despite their own political experience, ambitions and influence, Southern African First Ladies remain subordinate to the patriarchy in their societies. A gender bias is evident in the position of First Ladies as the region had predominantly had male Executives; a situation likely to remain for some time. A second gender bias is evident in each Southern African states’ Constitution as none refers to this position; an aspect which undermines democratic accountability. Third, a gender bias is evident in the expectations of the role of the First Lady, i.e. spouse; mother; care-giver and nurturer of the sick, young, elderly etc.). Another gender bias is evident in the fact that the Office of the First Lady is fully directed from within the President’s office that often controls media flows and information that portrays the First Lady in patriarchal terms as a national symbol; the Ideal Woman; a trophy; and a trailblazer for issues stereotyped and associated with women.

Jo-Ansie van Wyk is Professor of International Relations in the Department of Political Sciences, University of South Africa, Pretoria, South Africa. She has published on political leadership in Africa, and South Africa’s foreign policy, and diplomacy.

Gambia, Burundi and South Africa have all announced their intent to withdraw from the International Criminal Court (ICC) recently, and Kenya also threatened to do the same last week. Indeed, in the past few years, a number of African leaders have been railing against the ICC for its prosecution of crimes committed on the continent. They claim the court is biased even though, in many instances, their own governments referred cases to the court, where the chief prosecutor and several judges are Africans. Further, the court has started preliminary examinations in Africa, Asia, the Middle-East (with the UK nationals as one of the possible targets) and South America. While not without its own difficulties, the ICC is reviled by the elites because it indicted two sitting presidents, Sudan’s Omar al Bashir and Kenya’s Uhuru Kenyatta.

In its formal Instrument of Withdrawal to the United Nations, the South African government asserted it had “found that its obligations with respect to the peaceful resolution of conflicts at times are incompatible with the interpretation given by the ICC of obligations” under the Rome Statute, its founding treaty. In other words, the government invoked the old peace-versus-justice argument, which, incidentally, has been debunked by scholars. This pronouncement was, no doubt, in reference to the government’s refusal to arrest President al Bashir—which it was legally obliged to do as a state party to the Rome Statute—when he attended a high-level African Union meeting in South Africa last year. South African lawyers and activists were outraged and its supreme court recently ruled the government’s omission violated both domestic law and its international obligations.

Finally, Justice Minister Michael Masutha argued the requirement to arrest indicted heads of state would be tantamount “regime change” and contravenes legislation that grants them diplomatic immunity (without allowing that Bashir did not have to visit). But could there be a different reason behind the government’s controversial decision?

A Diversion from Domestic Difficulties?

The African National Congress (ANC) government is suffering from a series of high-level corruption scandals along with a faltering economy, chronic electricity, water shortages, and most significantly spiraling unemployment rates, especially among the youth. Of course, the long-standing disappointment with government promises of land reform and the Broad Based Black Economic Empowerment programs, both of which have failed to reach the vast majority of the populace, cannot go unmentioned.

During my August visit there, many cited these issues to explain the ruling ANC’s serious losses in this year’s municipal elections to the Democratic Alliance and the Economic Freedom Fighters (headed by a 36 and 34-year old, respectively). Unfortunately, approximately a dozen ANC candidates were murdered in the run-up to the elections, allegedly by members of their own party—further evidence of domestic problems for the ANC. As an additional challenge to the ANC, the opposition Democratic Alliance Tweeted: “We will today approach courts to have the notice of withdrawal to the #ICC set aside as unconstitutional, irrational & procedurally flawed.” They cited the ANC’s failure to consult other parties and alleged violation of the country’s Promotion of Administration of Justice Act.

Additional domestic challenges are as follows. Last month, the ANC’s Chief Whip called for the resignation of President Jacob Zuma (who continues to fight allegations of personal and professional misconduct) as well as the entire ANC leadership, including himself. As recently as two weeks ago, the police fired stun grenades and water cannons to disperse university students protesting outside parliament over tuition rates, a problem plaguing the government during the past several months. Clearly, the ANC is concerned about losing its long-held grip on power, before the next round of elections. So, at least by creating a media buzz and fodder for discussion for the more informed about its dealings with the ICC, the government could well be diverting some public attention from these challenges while it invokes a need to sue for peace.

South Africa is unlike other countries which have threatened to withdraw from the court’s jurisdiction in that it has long been a proponent of the court and never been under investigation by it. Burundi’s presidential-term-limit question led to election-related violence in 2015, leaving hundreds dead, and tens-of-thousands displaced. Its parliament voted to withdraw from the ICC in October, as its government is under investigation by the court for its role in these deaths and other human rights abuses. Gambia’s human rights record has frequently come under scrutiny, particularly the government’s decision this year to crack down on some political opponents. The ICC dismissed the indictments, without prejudice, against Kenya’s top two leaders for election related violence, because of the dwindling witness list. The court invited the prosecutor to present any evidence of witness tampering, which the prosecutor blamed for its inability to present full evidence, if/when it was able in order to reinstate the complaint. These three countries therefore, are dissimilar to South Africa. Although they too might benefit from an external distraction, they may appear more concerned about accountability issues in an international forum.

Furthermore, South Africa is a regional power carrying significant weight within the African Union. Its notice to withdraw from the Rome Statute comes at a time of improving relations between the court and African countries. So, why now? Will its impending departure have a domino effect? Analyst are speculating, and probably rightly so, that South Africa does not want to be seen as a late comer, if in fact there is going to be an exodus of African countries from the ICC. But this is only an ancillary benefit, while domestic issues seem to be the driver. It has been reported that the ICC—which must improve its ability to reach all human-rights-violating individuals, even in those situations traditionally protected by the UN Security Council permanent members—has asked both South Africa and Burundi to reconsider their withdrawal notices. In the case of South Africa the proverbial jury is still out on that question. We will have to wait and see.

Mercedeh Momeni is a former assistant United States attorney and an associate legal officer at the UN Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. She is currently engaged in development work with a focus on democracy and governance. The views expressed herein are not necessarily those of her current or former employers.

Africa is currently in the middle of a third term crisis. As presidents come up against the presidential term-limits included in many multi-party constitutions, a significant number are refusing to leave power gracefully. Instead, a number of leaders have sought to secure a third term. So far, this trend has taken in countries as otherwise diverse as Burkina Faso, Burundi, Namibia, Rwanda, Uganda, and now, it seems, the Democratic Republic of Congo.

In most cases, they have tried to do so through official channels, in other words by changing the law or appealing to the judiciary, rather than simply suspending the constitution and ruling by fiat. One reason for this is that there is strong domestic and international support for presidential term limits. Afrobarometer data suggests that typically over two-thirds of Africans support term limits, although there is considerable variation, with a high of 90% in Benin and a low of 44% in Algeria. As a result, leaders feel compelled to tread carefully, and to legitimise their strategies by pursuing them through formal channels.

Yet despite this, attempts to secure a third term have often triggered political unrest and in some cases widespread civil conflict. In both Burkina Faso and Burundi, efforts by unpopular presidents to stay in power come what may triggered mass protests and ultimately (very different forms of) military intervention. At the time of going to press, a further crisis appears to be brewing in the Democratic Republic of Congo, where the President, Joseph Kabila, looks set to pursue an unconstitutional third term in office. On Thursday 5 May, the former Governor of Katanga, Moise Katumbi, announced that he would be contesting the presidency as the candidate of the three main opposition parties. Just hours later he tweeted that the president – his former ally – had sent the police force to surround his house and that he had appealed to the United Nations mission in the country to protect him. Unconfirmed local reports later suggested that it was only the intervention of UN soldiers that prevented Katumbi’s detention.

If so, the DRC has had a lucky escape. Opposition supporters have already been involved in violent clashes with the security forces in protest against the prospect of a prolonged Kabila presidency. The arrest of Katumbi would raise the political temperature yet further, increasing the prospects for conflict in the coming months. As allegations and rumours circulate unhindered, the threat of a broader political rupture becomes ever more likely.

The growing number of third term tragedies on the continent raises three important questions. First, when do presidents seek a third term and when do they not? Second, when are they successful? Third, when are a president’s attempts to serve a third term most likely to result in political conflict?

Should I stay or should I go

Despite the recent headlines it is important to remember that considerably more presidents have respected term limits than have broken them. For every Uganda there is a Zambia, for every Burundi there is a South Africa, for every Rwanda there is a Kenya. There are a number of factors that appear to encourage presidents to seek third terms. First, the quality of democracy matters. Presidents in less democratic states who face weaker institutional checks and balances are more likely to try and break – or at least change – the rules. Good recent examples include Congo-Brazzaville and Djibouti.

Second, it is more feasible for presidents who govern countries that are more politically and economically independent from western influence to ignore international protests. As a result, leaders who enjoy greater international leverage because their countries feature valuable natural resources or are of considerable geo-strategic importance, try to secure a third term much more frequently than those that are much more dependent on Western trade. This is one of the reasons that President Yoweri Museveni of Uganda, a country that recently found large oil reserves and is a key ally of United States in the war-on-terror, is able to stay in power indefinitely.

Third, presidents who enjoy greater political control are more likely to judge that it is possible to secure a third term, and hence more likely to risk pursuing one. Political control comes through two main routes: the ruling party and the security forces. Presidents are far more likely to try and secure third terms in dominant-party states in which the ruling party secures over 60% of seats in the legislature, such as Namibia and Rwanda, and when they have tight control over the army and police, as in Djibouti and Uganda. Under these conditions, it is often possible to both change the constitution through the legislature and silence any opposition to this strategy.

You can’t always get what you want

Of course, presidents do not always get it right and a number of third term bids have been unsuccessful. In countries such as Nigeria and Zambia, presidents failed in part because they could not take their own parties with them. As a result, they struggled to pass the necessary legislation, and, facing strong opposition from civil society groups and other parties, abandoned their plans. Rather than undermining democracy, this process can actually give it a short in the arm, and deter future presidents from pursuing similar strategies.

However, unsuccessful attempts to stay in power can also have far more problematic consequences. In Burkina Faso and Burundi, leaders overestimated their political control and underestimated the strength of opposition. As a result, they struggled to push through their third term ambitions. In Burundi, for example, President Nkurunziza lost a critical vote in the legislature to change the law, which forced him to put pressure on the judiciary to interpret the constitution in a way that would allow him to stand again. Although the Supreme Court ultimately ruled in his favour, it was immediately apparent that it only did so as a result of high levels of intimidation, further undermining the president’s credibility. As a result, the verdict did little to dampen opposition protests against his actions.

Limited political control undermined the position of President Nkurudiza in a second way. In the midst of the public protests in May 2015, a group of army officers launched a coup attempt. Although it appears to have been a poorly coordinated effort and was eventually put down, the mutiny demonstrated the lack of unity within the armed forces, and the potential for the president’s limited control over the security forces to contribute to political instability.

The bigger they are the harder they fall

To date, presidential term limits have not tended to be the source of major political conflict when presidents have either a) been willing to give up on their ambitions in the face of widespread opposition (Nigeria, Zambia) or b) have enjoyed the political control needed to be able to force through their will with relatively little resistance (Uganda, Rwanda). The “problem category”, for want of a better term, is those cases in which conditions are not favourable to a third term bid but leaders try and force one through regardless.

In turn, this is most likely to happen in states in which presidents have most to gain from staying in office, and most to lose by giving up power. Good proxies for the benefits of office are the level of corruption and the presence of valuable natural resources, the combination of which can make a leader extremely wealthy. A decent proxy for the costs of leaving power is whether a country has a history of political violence, which tends to decrease the level of trust between rival leaders, and increase the potential that the head of state will be prosecuted for human rights violations when they step down.

This is not great news for the DRC, which is a highly corrupt resource rich state with a history of political conflict. Unless President Kabila bucks the continental pattern, he is unlikely to step down voluntarily. And if he proves to be willing to risk everything to stay in power, sending the police to surround Katumbi’s house is likely to be only the tip of the iceberg.